


Winged and Hurting (Backstory One-shot Collection)

by an_anxious_ghost



Category: Original Work, Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: AU, Abusive Parents, Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Wings, Backstory, Boarding School, Canon Gay Character, Canon LGBTQ Character, Canon LGBTQ Male Character, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Childhood Trauma, Dysfunctional Family, Dysfunctional Relationships, Eating Disorders, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Family Issues, Fire, Frostbite, Gay, Gay Character, Gay Male Character, High School, Homophobia, Homosexuality, Hospitals, Human Sides (Sanders Sides), Hurt, Hypothermia, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Inspired by Roleplay/Roleplay Adaptation, LGBTQ Character, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Manipulation, Minor Original Character(s), Neglect, Original Character(s), Past Child Abuse, Roleplay, Sick Character, Suicidal Thoughts, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:08:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27112411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/an_anxious_ghost/pseuds/an_anxious_ghost
Summary: Pay attention to the tags for possible triggers/other. If I missed anything, let me know.These are one-shots I wrote based off the backstory of a character in a roleplay. In this universe, everyone is born with wings and our characters go to a boarding school. Virgil is an AU version of Virgil Sanders from Sanders Sides. Everyone else mentioned is an OC unless I write something after the time he goes to the boarding school (where the other au sides all meet each other).
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Original Character(s)
Kudos: 6





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted under LonelySnowy on Wattpad.
> 
> (I promise it gets slightly better and longer- this first one was something I wrote as a practice one day and then people encouraged me to write more so here we are.)
> 
> Virgil is four years old during the time this one-shot takes place.
> 
> [Written May 12, 2020]

He was just a small, scrawny little boy… about four years old at the time. Ah what a tender age. This child was a quiet little boy who was born to less-than-perfect parents. There was a reason he was sent to a foster home.

Gosh, this child stunk. His clothes seemed to permanently stink of alcohol and other substances no matter how many washes they went through. These clothes weren’t in the best condition either. They were full of small holes and worn down fabric. I suppose you could expect that much from a low-income family but there were ways to properly clothe your child if you looked for it.

The other children in the foster home were older than this young boy… all around school age. They ignored him and didn’t allow him to join in on their games. Who would want a slow, little, weak child on their team? He’ll just slow them down. He wasn’t needed.

The foster parents felt bad for the little boy. His birth mother had neglected him and the other kids shunned away from him… for a large foster family like theirs, it was hard to be able to preserve anything for anyone. Pure pity for the well behaved child was stronger then their ideals of everything equal. They managed to conjure up a few toys for the young boy to play with.

This young boy was content with what he was given. It was more than what he was allowed to have before. He would play for hours with nothing more than a mutter of dialogue escaping his lips. It was so easy to forget he was there. 

This is how the next few months went. The quiet child would play contently while the world moved on around him. Eventually, it was time for the child to go back home. His mother finished her time in jail and in rehab. She had gotten clean. The system’s goal was to be able to give the children back to their parents if it was possible. The foster family knew this time would come for him. Their months with the quiet boy had come to an end.


	2. Instagram

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pay attention to the tags for possible triggers/other. If I missed anything, let me know.
> 
> These are one-shots I wrote based off the backstory of a character in a roleplay. In this universe, everyone is born with wings and our characters go to a boarding school. Virgil is an AU version of Virgil Sanders from Sanders Sides. Everyone else mentioned is an OC unless I write something after the time he goes to the boarding school (where the other au sides all meet each other).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Virgil is in seventh grade during the time of this one-shot.
> 
> [Written May 19, 2020; Edited May 20, 2020]

Virgil was sitting by himself, back against the wall. He was playing on his phone. It was a cool fall afternoon and most of the other kids had left for the day. The only people left were those who were in a club or had to stay after school. 

Since it was a friday, his mother was supposed to pick him up from school. She took him for the weekends while he stayed with his foster dads on the weekdays. He didn’t really mind that she was late to picking up. His mother wasn’t a great person and she didn’t exactly react well when he came out to her as gay last time they talked. He had recently gotten a boyfriend. His foster dads were really supportive of this. They even bought him a rainbow pride flag for his room! His mother however? Not so much. Not exactly supportive in any aspect, especially with something like this. She simply didn’t believe him. That wasn’t something he would care to go into at this time though. Virgil’s face flushed a light pink at the thought of his boyfriend as he started to day dream.

Speak of the devil, there he was. He was pulled out of his thoughts as he noticed him walking over. Colyn smiled at Virgil as he got closer. He must have seen Virgil sitting over here. He was exactly hard to spot with his recently dyed purple hair and it wasn’t like he was trying to hide. “Hey babe.” Colyn held out his hand out to him to help him up.

Virgil reached up and took his hand. He was pretty light so it wasn’t hard to pull him to his feet. Colyn pulled him into a kiss, much to Virgil’s surprise, and curled his wings around him. Colyn enjoyed surprise kisses as he was quickly learning. His face flushed pinker as the kiss continued.

Once he pulled away, he asked, “Wasn’t your mother supposed to pick you up?”

“Yeah.” Virgil nodded, face still pink. “I’m still waiting for her.”

Colyn set down his school bag and leaned against the wall. “I’ll wait with you until she does then..”

“Really?” Virgil asked, tilting his head. “Don’t you want to go home?”

“I’ll rather be here with my boyfriend.” Colyn smirked, getting immediate satisfaction when the pink on his face darkened.

“O-okay…” He ducked his head, in an attempt to cover how flustered Colyn seemed to make him. This was all still so new. He was only in seventh grade and he didn’t have much experience in this area of life. He didn’t really have many stable relationships to look up to either.

Virgil leaned against the wall next to him, watching the cars pick up the remaining students as Colyn talked about the clubs he was participating in currently to pass time.

Once Colyn finished talking about the current club in question, Virgil spoke up, “Isn’t your Mom picking you up?”

“Nah, I’m walking home today. It isn’t too far.” Colyn shrugged, not looking bothered.

“Won’t she be worried that you aren’t home?”

He shook his head. “Nah I never actually told her when I would be home. I doubt she’ll care or even notice until it’s dinner time anyway. Plus, if she’s really worried, I have my phone on me.”

Virgil accepted the answer and went back to watching cars and random birds. It made sense to him.

“Hey, do you have Instagram?” He continued after a slight pause, “On your phone?”

Virgil glanced at him from the corner of his eyes. “What’s that?” He looked slightly confused. He kind of recognized the name but he didn’t really know what it was.

Colyn looked baffled by his response. “Do you like under a rock? How do you not know what Instagram is?”

Dang it, was he supposed to? Virgil pulled on his hoodie strings, looking down at his shoes. “M-mom didn’t let me have a phone and I-”

Colyn cut him off, “You don’t always have to talk about it.”

“I- talk- what?”

“I already know the gist of it. Your mom is a homophobic, neglectant parent who was awful to you as a child.” He dismissed “People don’t like to hear the same story twice.”

Virgil bit his lip, hunching his shoulders. “Sorry I didn’t mean-.”

“Forget it, it’s fine.” Colyn waved him off. “Give me your phone.” He held out his hand expectantly.

Virgil pulled out his phone but didn’t hand it to him. “Why-?”

He reached and took it from his grasp with a roll of his eyes. “To download Instagram. Gosh, you’re being slow today.”

Virgil went to reach for his phone. “Hey, give it back. Oscar and Antonio said to not let anyone-.”

“I’m your boyfriend.” Colyn cut him off as he turned the phone on, “It’s okay if I touch your phone. What’s your password?”

Virgil stopped his attempt to grab his phone and answered his question. “51315..”

Colyn tapped away at his phone and a few moments later, he held out the phone to him. “What do you want your user handle to be?”

“What’s that?” Virgil regretted asking immediately. Colyn had given him a look of annoyance.

“It’s like a username. Like, I’m ‘@kingcolyn’ and you can be whatever. It can be a reference to something you like, something you think sounds cool or whatever you want.”

Virgil was at a loss for a name. What could he use? “Emo Nightmare?” He suggested after several moments. It made sense to him. The more he thought about it, the more he liked it. It sounded cool!

“Alright, edge lord.” Colyn rolled his eyes but typed it in anyway. “I made your password the same as your phone. I also had you follow me and filled out your profile and bio. You can change it later.” He handed the phone over to him, “Here you go, you’re welcome.” 

“Thanks?” Virgil took the phone back and looked down at it. He started to scroll around some and eventually found Colyn’s page. “There are pictures of you.”

“Yeah, you post pictures. It's what you do.” Colyn sighed, sounding slightly frustrated. “You really know nothing, huh? It’s what you do. You post pictures of stuff.” And idea popped in his head, “Here, let’s take a picture together! It can be the first picture on your account!” He sounded excited. Before Virgil could give his input, Colyn called out to a girl passing by who probably just got out of her own club. “Hey, can you take a picture of us?”

The girl turned to look at them and then agreed. “Sure!” She walked over to them and Colyn handed Virgil’s phone to her. She stepped back and held up the phone. “Ready?” She asked.

Colyn looked at the camera and threw up a three fingered hello of sorts to the phone and Virgil just stood there awkwardly. He wasn't used to pictures being taken of him. “Remember to look at the camera.” He whispered right before the girl explained, “Say ‘Cheese!’”

The girl handed the phone to Colyn. “I think I got a few good ones though you both could smile more.”

“Yeah, we know. Thanks.” Colyn waved her off, looking down at the picture. "Look at us! So cute!” He held out the phone to Virgil so he could look. “You have to tag me in it!" 

“How do I do that?” Virgil asked and, again, Colyn sighed. Virgil tensed again. Colyn seemed frustrated to have to deal with him. He didn’t want him frustrated at him.   
“It’s not that hard.” Colyn started tapping away at Virgil’s phone again, explaining how to post a picture with tags. “There, posted. You should post pictures of yourself here and such so I can see what you're up to."

"Is this a common thing people do?" Virgil asked with a frown. He didn't mind, necessarily, but posting his life online? Taking pictures of himself? It didn't sound fun.

"Yep!" Colyn confirmed, excited to have his boyfriend on the app with him. "Anyone who is anything has Instagram!" 

Virgil just nodded in acceptance, putting his phone into his pocket. Right then was when he heard several honks come from the parking lot in front of the middle school. "My mom's here… I'll text you later." Who else could it be at this hour.

"You better." Colyn pulled him into another kiss as a goodbye. When it ended, Colyn had a smirk plastered on his face. 

“Bye Co..” Virgil blushed, picking up his own school bag. He turned heel and walked toward his mom’s car.


	3. August, Bed and Bars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pay attention to the tags for possible triggers/other. If I missed anything, let me know.
> 
> These are one-shots I wrote based off the backstory of a character in a roleplay. In this universe, everyone is born with wings and our characters go to a boarding school. Virgil is an AU version of Virgil Sanders from Sanders Sides. Everyone else mentioned is an OC unless I write something after the time he goes to the boarding school (where the other au sides all meet each other).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Virgil is eight years old during the time of this one-shot.
> 
> [Written May 25, 2020 & May 26, 2020]

“Mother, I am perfectly able to handle my son on my own.” Aeneid’s lips formed a hard line, staring the older woman down. “I do not need your money.”

“Nonsense, dearie. I should be allowed to spend money on my grandson.” She waved her off, flicking her wing as she did so, and turned to Virgil, who was sitting there quietly. “Virgil, sonny, you want a bed right? It’ll be better than that old mattress on the floor.”

“Is it soft?” Virgil asked, looking up at his Grandmother.

“Of course it’s soft!” She laughed. That cementered the offer. No going back now. “I’ll call in a favor and have someone bring a bed over now.”

Virgil couldn’t help but be excited at the aspect of having a bed. If it was half as good as his mother’s bed, he would love it! He would often sneak onto her bed when she left him home alone. He stopped that though after he got caught asleep on it.

Virgil tensed up some, feeling a glare on his back. He looked over at his mother and ducked his head. Oh no.

“See! Look at him, he’s excited!” Grandmother August pointed at him, glancing at her daughter.

“Yes, mother. I can see that. I am not blind.”

“Oh, lighten up.” The older woman rolled her eyes. “I swear, you are just like your father. Stubborn and no fun.”

“I have fun.” Aeneid claimed, shaking her wings out with a huff. “Just not around tiny children and old women.”

Grandmother laughed. “Ah, what a sense of humor!” She pulled out her phone and started to text away, ignoring any more protest from her daughter. “Ah, look! I have an old friend in town who can come in and put it together while we catch up. It’s been forever. I want to hear all about how you and your family are doing. Where is Maro, anyway?”

“He’s at work. He often works late.” Aeneid’s tone had gotten bitter at the mention of her boyfriends’s name.

“That man never takes a break. You’ve married a hard worker, I’m starting to notice.”

She scoffed. “Hard worker. That’s one way to put it.”

The room fell quiet but that never had a chance to last long. “Aeneid, dear, where are your manners? Go fetch me something to eat.”

Aeneid’s jaw clenched. She had some choice words but she held her tongue. “What would you like, Mother?”

“Oh, surprise me.”

“Virgil, go get the usual from the kitchen. You’re old enough to make a platter of cheese and crackers with some grapes.”

Virgil quickly got to his feet and made his way to the kitchen. He knew exactly what she wanted for this wasn’t the first time she had him make her food. The snack was cheese and crackers with a helping of grapes on the side. It was her favorite thing to snack on, especially when she was exhausted after a busy work day. The least he could do was prepare her food since she was providing for him. He did have a place to stay. There were some kids at his school that lived out of cars! ...It may also help that he ate a few crackers, slices of cheese and grapes when he prepared it. He wasn’t allowed to touch the food without permission or being handed it so it was sort of a special thing.

The cheese wasn’t sliced up yet so he had to do that part himself. Since he had done it before, it wasn’t too difficult to achieve. Normally, he would bring this all to her on a regular plate with less on it but since there was a guest over, he grabbed the slightly more fancy platter and filled it up.

Carefully, he lifted the platter by the handles off of the counter. He stepped cautiously toward the living room, not wanting to drop it or stumble. That would be bad, especially in front of Grandmother. Mother wouldn’t be happy.

He set the platter down on the coffee table and went to sit back down at his spot on the floor. They continued their conversation as they munched on their food.

The green eyed woman altered her gaze to the small child. “Virgil, would you like some? You’re so skinny; it’s like you’re never fed!” She laughed.

Aeneid didn’t think it was as funny. “He gets as much food as he deserves.”

“I’m just teasing.” Grandmother August shook her head. “Wow, so hostile to your poor, dear mumsie.” She pushed the platter closer to Virgil with her wing. “Take as much as you like, son.”

You didn’t have to tell him again. He reached forward for a grape and plopped it in his mouth.

Before anything else was said, there was a knock on the door. “Oh, he’s here!” The older woman stood up and practically ran toward the door. 

“Who’s here-” She started to ask before falling quiet. She realized who it was and she simply huffed. “And you say I’m stubborn.”

With the door now opened, you could see the tall man, probably in his fifties, standing there with a IKEA box and a roll of foam wrapped in plastic next to him. “Did someone order a kid’s bed?” He asked with a grin. His voice was deep and only slightly raspy. 

“Johnathan! Hey!” She pulled the younger man into a hug.

“Hey August! Long time no see!” He exclaimed as he broke out of the hug. “How long has it been?”

“Oh, shush. You’re making me feel old.” She swatted his arm.

“Sorry to tell you but we’re getting old, Aug.” This caused him to get swatted again. “Sorry, sorry! I just gotta get all my teasing in since you never visit me.”

“My old limbs can’t handle the travel as much as they used to.” August sighed longfully.

“Are you going to stand in the doorway all day or is he going to make this bed you insist on?” She lowered her voice to a mumble, “so you can leave.”

“Of course, of course, come right in.” August gestured as she spoke before turning to her grandson. “Virgil, honey, why don’t you show Mr. Johnathan to your room?”

Virgil nodded and got up to his feet. “Are those yours?” He asked curiously, spotting his tool belt.

“My tools?” He asked, following the young boy’s gaze. “Yep! I don’t think we’ll need many of them but I brought them all just in case.” Johnathan gave the young boy a friendly smile. He pulled the wrench out of his belt and handed it to Virgil. “You want to hold one?”

Virgil nodded, eagerly taking the tool. He stared at it in awe. What could it do? It was kind of heavy but he was strong! He could hold it! Virgil realized all eyes were on him and his face flushed red. “Thank you, mister.”

“Don’t mention it.” The boy’s excitement was cute. “Now why don’t you show me to your room?”

Virgil nodded and turned heel, leading Johnathan to his bedroom. The older man got to work and Virgil watched him patiently and quietly, staying still most of the time. 

“And… finished.” Johnathan stepped back to admire his handiwork.

“It’s wood.” Virgil tilted his head, looking confused. Was that supposed to be soft wood?

“Well, yeah.” Johnathan laughed, going to grab the foam roll covered in plastic wrap. “We need to put your mattress on as well as this mattress cover. That’s what will make it soft.”

“Oh.” That made sense.

Johnathan took apart the sheets and blankets off the mattress and pulled it onto the bed. He used his pocket knife to cut the plastic wrap off of the foam mattress cover and it uncurled. “Take the other end and let’s put it on the bed.” He instructed.

Virgil grabbed the end of it and they brought it over to the mattress. They set it down on it before putting the sheets back on it. “Done?”

“Done.” Johnathan nodded. He blinked, glancing around. “Where did you put my wrench?”

Virgil didn’t respond but he turned and went to where he was sitting. He had set down the wrench when Johnathan asked for assistance. He brought it back to him and held it up.

Johnathan took the wrench and rubbed Virgil’s brown hair. “Thanks, kid.”

Virgil ducked his head, smiling slightly at his affection. Grandmother’s friend was nice.

Johnathan’s phone rang and he picked it up. “Yellow? Oh. Right, yeah. I just finished- right, right, I’m coming. Sorry. I’ll be there soon.” He hung up and turned heel.

Virgil went after him, closing the door to his bedroom on the way out.

“I finished the bed.” He announced. “I got to go now.”

August frowned. “Aw but John, can’t you stay a little longer?”

“Sorry, ladies, but it’s my time to leave.” He put his hand on the doorknob and turned it. “Wifey is waiting.”

“Aw alright. Thank you for coming.”

He tipped his head. “My pleasure.”

Grandmother August didn’t leave until an hour later. She was always hard to get rid of. Aeneid eventually got her to leave, though.

“Bye, mother.” Aeneid forced a smile onto her face as an older woman left the apartment. As soon as she was down the hall, Aeneid closed the door and turned heel to face her son. Just by the look on her face, Virgil knew he messed up.

When Aeneid advanced on him, he scampered backwards. Once his back hit the wall, he slid down to the floor. He knew the drill by now. He had gotten her mad at him so it was her excuse to take out all her frustration on him, even if it wasn’t all necessarily on him. 

She slapped him across the face. “You’re such a greedy child. You are making us a charity case!”

“S-sorry!”

“‘Sorry’ doesn’t cut it!” She growled. “You are pathetic! You just had to act like you’re actually worth something for a few hours but you can’t even do that correctly!” She reached down and grabbed his arm. She roughly pulled him toward the direction of his room, not letting him even stand up.

Virgil tried to stand up but he couldn’t manage to get to his feet for longer than a second before being pulled back down again. She was walking too fast for him to keep up so he was being pulled behind. His legs, knees especially, felt like they were being bruised due to how many times they hit the floor. He tried to pull away from her. “Mother, it hurts-” He whined, which was unlike him.

He wasn’t usually this verbal. He often stayed in the background, allowing himself to be forgotten to avoid angering one of his parents. When you have lived with a situation such as this, you learn to tiptoe your way around to avoid problems… it didn’t always work, unfortunately.

Aeneid held up by his arm so he was above the ground. Virgil cried out in pain as his arm was twisted. He kicked his legs, trying to break free from her grasp. She was close enough to his room at the point that she stepped forward and was able to reach the door rather quickly. As soon as the door opened, Virgil was shoved inside.

He stumbled in before falling face first onto the floor. He bit his lip to muffle the cries, not wanting to anger her further. He curled his wings close behind him, trying to bring comfort to himself.

“You will stay in here and you will be quiet until I believe you learned your lesson. Understood?”

Virgil turned to face her before ducking his head. He knew how this worked.

The door was soon slammed shut and locked from the outside, avoiding Virgil’s escape. The only other way out of the room was through a window with bars on it. The neighborhood wasn’t a very safe neighborhood. They lived in the ghetto where crime wasn’t a rare occurrence. Many houses and apartments had bars on the windows to avoid robbery. With that, it also doubled to prevent people from getting out because who needs fire safety?

This wasn’t a new thing, being locked in here. He would be stuck in here for days at a time, on and off throughout his childhood though the rules seemed to change. Sometimes he would be given food and water and other times, he wasn’t given that privilege. Sometimes he was allowed to go to school and sometimes he wasn’t. It all depended on circumstances that he wasn’t quite sure about yet. Perhaps it was based on the parent’s mood?

Virgil stumbled over to his new bed and flopped down on it. His body was hurting and the soft mattress felt like a hug wrapping around him. His mother, Aeneid, has always been stubborn. Her stubbornness was the reason Virgil was even born instead of… well, that’s another story, isn’t it?

Virgil was grateful for the bed, even if it seemed to be the reason he was locked in his room this time around. Being locked in his room wasn’t too bad, especially when he was allowed to leave to go to school. If he was allowed at school, he got to see Ralli and eat! He hoped to go to school. He wouldn’t know what would happen for a few more days seeing it was late Friday. 

The days seemed to pass slowly. The most he heard from outside his door was the mumblings of the television. The only thing he had to keep track of time was the sun seen through his barred window. He would often stare out and watch people walk past or the cars drive by. If he were lucky, he would catch a game of neighborhood kids playing basketball in the street in front of his apartment. 

He was assigned homework over the weekend and, luckily, his school bag was in his room. He wasn’t a really good student. He would miss days at a time of class instruction and his parents never helped him with homework. He always felt behind. Virgil spent a solid hour and a half trying to figure out the worksheet before throwing his pencil across the room. Augh! This was useless.

His stomach growled and Virgil clinched the clothing covering his stomach. It had been at least a day, maybe two, since he had last eaten. His stomach hurt and his throat felt hoarse. He dug through his school bag, searching for something to eat. Nothing. He bit his lip. He would have to remember to save some of his school lunch to bring home. He’s gone longer without eating before so he would survive. 

He found a sort of smushed plastic water bottle at the bottom of the bag. Thank goodness. He downed the water, grateful for it. It was the bottle Ralli had given him a few days ago that he had forgotten about. The water wasn't really great at room temperature as warm water rarely was. It didn't help that the apartment was always kept on the warmer side of things as well. Both Virgil and his mother didn’t really hold in body heat as well as other people so they ran on the colder side of things so it made sense they kept their apartment warmer to combat that.

Virgil was awoken by his mother early in the morning, the sun barely up. “Come on, you need to get ready for school.”

He rubbed his eyes sleepily, mumbling. “School?”

“Yes, come on. I need to drop you off early or you're walking yourself there.” Aeneid turned to grab an outfit. The outfit consisted of an oversized black weighted hoodie, a white shirt with purple and blue tie dye and jeans. “You can change in here or the bathroom, I don’t care.” She dropped the clothes in front of him. The hoodie clanked against the flooring as soon as it landed.

As soon as she left the room, Virgil unsnapped the hoodie he was currently wearing and then the shirt underneath, peeling them off his body. Changing here was fine. Changing here meant there wasn’t a mirror. Even at his young age, he was insecure about his body. You could practically count his ribs which didn’t exactly scream healthy. He was covered with bruises and scarrage from things he was starting to block out. It wasn’t a pretty sight. He pulled on the shirt and the hoodie to avoid further examination. It was his fault, anyway. His parents didn’t want him. They never asked to have children. He was just a waste of space and money. His stomach growled softly and he glanced at his school bag. He just had to wait for the lunch bell, then he could eat. 

“Hurry up!” Aeneid called out from the other room, sounding annoyed it was taking him so long.

Virgil quickly finished and grabbed his school bag. She was going to drive him! He didn’t have to walk today! Well, he could fly there but he struggled some to carry his school bag as he flew and he didn’t get the opportunity to fly often other than gym class so he wasn’t the strongest flyer. 

He made his way out of the room. School wasn’t too bad compared to the four walls of his room… besides, he got to see his friend so there was reason to be excited.

Stay quiet, behave and nothing bad will happen. He just had to remember that.


	4. Shadow Personified

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pay attention to the tags for possible triggers/other. If I missed anything, let me know.
> 
> These are one-shots I wrote based off the backstory of a character in a roleplay. In this universe, everyone is born with wings and our characters go to a boarding school. Virgil is an AU version of Virgil Sanders from Sanders Sides. Everyone else mentioned is an OC unless I write something after the time he goes to the boarding school (where the other au sides all meet each other).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact: I made this one-shot for school. :p
> 
> Virgil is eleven years old during the time of this one-shot. It is currently August. (The next one-shot is going to take place in January of the same year. Posting these things in order of how I made them. :p)
> 
> This is a merging of Shadow Personified (the one-shot/"short story" I wrote for school) and Malnutritioned. Malnutritioned starts at the 'Beep. Beep. Beep.'
> 
> [Written May 19, 2020 and June 15, 2020]

Just let me die.

The world was such a cruel and dark place. He felt so hungry and weak… he’s gone hungry before. He’s gone without food for days on end without eating but this time it was too much. He felt so faint.

He wanted release from his prison. He was trapped within the four walls of his room and the only way out was locked by the prison guard: his mother.

She never wanted me. She never cared. The boy thought to himself. She hates me!

A sob escaped his lips and he clenched his stomach. He wanted to scream and yell but he was too weak to do anything. 

He was well familiar with these walls. He’s been trapped here before but never for longer than a week, maybe two. It’s been months. It’s been so long he’s lost the concept of time. He felt so lonely, so disconnected. 

The only social interaction given was when his mother would occasionally bring him food and water.

Had she forgotten he was here? Had she forgotten to bring him substance?

The eleven-year-old boy unwrapped himself from his blankets that kept him warm. Body fat was scarce on the boy. If you were able to see under the hoodie he wore, you would be able to count his ribs. 

He struggled to stand up, his body fighting against him. He felt weak and the air felt like it was weighing down on him. At this point, his struggle was to see if he could muster up energy. He was fighting against his own body.

He slowly but surely made his way toward the door, using the wall to support him. It felt good to use his limbs again.

Once he made it to the door, he knocked on it. He continued to knock until he could hear footsteps get closer.

The door opened to his mother. “What do you want?”

“F-food.” He struggled to speak. Even the spit in his mouth was not enough to hydrate his body let alone his vocal chords to be able to speak without a rasp.

Mother blinked at him, a quick flash of regret in her eyes. “Hmph, I guess it’s been awhile since I last permitted you to eat.” She muttered, turning heel. “Go sit at the dining table. I will prepare you something.”

Was she actually letting him leave the room? His lips parted in surprise and he stared after her, unable to move for several moments. Quickly realizing how behind he was from her quick walking, he walked to the table. His body didn’t want to work and it was a struggle to push forward to the table.

The ringing of a phone sounded from the direction of the closed off kitchen. It stopped with a voice. “Aeneid Storm, speaking. Who’s this?”

This was when the boy got an idea… he could run. He wasn’t locked in! His mother was distracted. He could escape this… he could escape the hurt.

“But you won’t.” A voice whispered in his ear. “You aren’t brave enough to go out in the world alone, Virgil. You can’t take care of yourself! It’s a big scary world out there with people who will hurt you. You don’t know how they work. You don’t know how to tiptoe around people out there. It’s scary out there. In here is safe-”

“‘In here’ is not safe!” He cried out. “‘In here’ is awful! ‘In here’ is bad for me! This is not normal! I know that it isn’t! I need to escape-”

“What would escaping do for you?” The shadow voice carried on, sounding like it was dipped in poison. “They’ll just find you. They’ll always come back and haunt you, even if you do manage to escape.” The shadow’s breath was on Virgil’s neck, causing the hair to stand up and goosebumps to cover the surface of his skin.

“Shut up. Shut up!” Virgil covered his ears and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the voice. “Just leave me alone!”

“I will never go away, Virgil~” The shadow drew out the syllables of his name. “I am a part of you. I will always be here, even if I’m hidden deep inside your mind. I say what you know is true.”

Virgil uncovered his eyes and ears, staring his shadow self straight in the eyes. “No.” He wasn’t going to allow this personification of his own thoughts and fears hinder him. 

“No? Are you really not going to listen to me? You know I’m correct. I am a part of you, remember?”

Virgil willed his weak legs to move forward. He tried his best to reject the shadow’s thoughts- his thoughts.

Virgil put his hand on the door knob and the shadow started to scream. All confidence the shadow had was gone. As soon as the door opened, the shadow vanished.

Virgil was brought out of his head and out of the swirling thoughts in his mind. He had to act and he had to act now or he would never have a chance. Self-preservation kicked in and gave him an unearned boost of energy he didn’t have to spare. He darted down the apartment hall and down the stairs. The elevator was too slow to trust. 

Once he reached the bottom floor of the apartment, he darted out the door and then down the street. Everything became a blur but he didn’t care. He was powered on pure adrenaline at this point. He had escaped his mother and there was nothing but possibility in store for him…

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The steady beeping of the machine greeted him as he gained consciousness. He was staring up at a white paneled ceiling. He groaned as he tried to sit up. He put a hand to his head. His brain hurt and his memories felt so jumbled up. What happened?

With his arm moving, he noticed the I.V. sticking out of his arm. His eyes followed the cord to the bag of fluid and then the other hospital machinery. His throat felt raw and it hurt. He tried glancing down at it before realizing running into his nose and, presumingly, down his throat.. He put his hand on it to tug at it but the door swung open.

The sudden movement startled the child, causing him to jump. He glanced to look at them, eyes wide with fear. He was shaking but he seemed otherwise frozen in place.

Noticing the fear, the lady with her hair hidden in an African hair wrap came forward and held his hands. “You’re okay. Take deep breaths. Can you do that with me?” She exaggerated her own breathing, tapping a finger on his hand in a steady beat.

After a bit, when he seemed to calm down, she opened her mouth to speak again, “My name is Kamirah. What’s yours?”

“Virgil.” He muttered softly.

“Can you speak up, dear?” It was hard to hear someone who was muttering.

He cleared his throat some before speaking up. “Virgil.”

“Last name?”

“Storm.”

Kamirah glanced at one of the other nurses who was jotting stuff down before turning back to Virgil. “Do you know how old you are? What year is it?” She continued to ask him a few more questions before dropping the last one. “Do you know what happened?”

Virgil opened his mouth to answer before closing it. “I… I ran.” Memories were starting to return to him and tears started to block his gaze. 

She fell quiet for a moment. “Virgil, I’m going to ask you flat out: Do you have an abusive person in your household?”

Virgil didn’t say anything, tears running down his face. 

“Let me rephrase: Were you forced to go without food? Did your punishments often include being locked someplace, denied food and/or water or caused you physical harm?” It seemed to be her job to determine what happened.

Again, Virgil didn’t say anything. He nodded slowly, wrapping his arms around himself. He felt so overwhelmed and stressed outside. He tensed, feeling his arms unclothed. “Where’s my hoodie?”

“We removed it from your body to better examine you. You collapsed on the ground and someone called the ambulance.” She got up from where she was and went to the side. She picked up the hoodie and dropped it. It clinged against the floor. “The hoodie deceived the system and everyone.”

The eleven year old winced at the loud clank as the hoodie touched the ground. “Can I have it back?”

She gave him a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry, Virgil, but you can’t have something covering your arms due to the I.V. I can grab you more blankets if you would like that?”

Virgil nodded, pulling the current blankets close to him. He felt so exhausted and achy. While he waited, it wouldn’t hurt to rest his eyes a little.

Kamirah sent one of the nurses to retrieve the blanket and noticed the child drifting off. She didn’t expect him to stay up long. His body was exhausted and malnutritioned. He’ll probably be here for a few more weeks before they could take him off the feeding tube.


	5. Frostbite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pay attention to the tags for possible triggers/other. If I missed anything, let me know.
> 
> These are one-shots I wrote based off the backstory of a character in a roleplay. In this universe, everyone is born with wings and our characters go to a boarding school. Virgil is an AU version of Virgil Sanders from Sanders Sides. Everyone else mentioned is an OC unless I write something after the time he goes to the boarding school (where the other au sides all meet each other).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Virgil is currently eleven years older during the time of this one-shot. It is currently January.
> 
> [Written August 12, 2020 & August 13, 2020]

It was a rather quiet night for Virgil as he stared out his barred window. Small flurries fell from the sky and the moon’s light shined through the barred window. Virgil was sitting close to his space heater his grandmother gave him with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. His grandmother always complained about how cold he was. She claimed he just needed to fatten up a little… which may explain the fact that she also gave him several packs of skittles. Being a child, they were gone pretty quickly. There was none left now.

Virgil’s bedroom was rather warm despite how cold it was outside. This was partly due to the heating system but mostly due to the space heater he received.

His mother and himself always leaned to the colder side of the body temperature scale. Heating was always on in their house to some degree except for the extreme hot days. At least, this was how it was when Maro wasn’t with them. When Maro lived with them, the temperature was kept at a relatively normal temperature. Aeneid and Virgil had to settle for layering up if they felt cold.

Virgil was pulled out of his peaceful stargazing by the sound of soft sobs. He shifted his body so it was turned toward the rest of the room as he glanced around, trying his best to find what the noise was coming from. Unable to find the source in his bedroom, he abandoned the blanket and walked toward the door to find where the crying was coming from.

“Mother?” He asked, voice soft and light. He usually spoke like this around people. His only real exception was his friend, Ralli, and in extension, Ralli’s parents. Adults don't like when he raises his voice to talk, when he attempts to be a part of the conversation or when he tries to speak when they don't want him too… he found it better to stay mostly quiet and to do what they say. Keep your head low and don’t draw attention to yourself. It was the best way to stay out of trouble.

He ventured closer to the noise, moving quietly like he was stalking prey. The floor didn’t creak under his light steps. He had perfected the art of staying quiet over the years and he wasn’t about to slip up now. The door to his mother’s room was already cracked open wide enough where he could see the bed clearly. He peeked in, only to see his mother was sitting on her bed, hunched over. After a few moments, he noticed the tears that trailed down her face before dripping down onto the pillow she hugged close.

Virgil frowned at the sight. His mother didn’t cry often. She usually took her pain out in a more aggressive way or by drinking her pain away. He didn’t know which way he preferred. This reaction was still pretty foreign and he didn’t know how she would act. At least with anger and drunken annoyance, he knew what to expect.

He easily slipped through the cracked open door, avoiding the creak all doors make when you’re trying to be quiet. He crept forward, still staying as quiet as a mouse as he sat down by her feet. “Mother?” He spoke with a hesitance in his voice after several moments. He wanted to help if he could.

Aeneid barely looked at him before swinging the pillow in his direction. “F**k off, Maro!”

Virgil stumbled backwards, surprised and fearful at the sudden mood change. Aeneid stood over him, looking vivid with anger. Her expression instantly changed the moment she realized the child in front of her wasn’t her ex but her son. Aeneid cleared her throat, eyes narrowing as she glanced from him. She refused to meet his eyes.

Aeneid turned and walked toward the pillow, sweeping it up into her hands. She moved toward her bed and set it down where it should be, still not turning to look her son in the eyes. It was too hard. There was quiet between the two and Virgil didn’t dare say another word. A hoarse voice broke the silent with a stern “Get out.”

Virgil knew the drill. Follow orders and it’ll be okay. He stumbled to his feet and fled the room, moving as quick as his little legs would let him. He didn’t worry about being quiet this time around.

Right as he was about to round the corner to get to his bedroom, his name was called. “Virgil.” 

Virgil stopped in his tracks the second his name was spoken out loud. He slowly turned to look at his mother and observe the expression on her face. Expressions are a big help in predicting possibilities about what may be said. She honestly looked like she was in pretty rough shape. Her hair was a mess, her eyes were red and puffy and she still had tears running down her face. “Get. Out.” She pointed at the door that led out of the apartment.

Virgil blinked at her with a tilt of his head, confused. He looked like a small puppy that didn’t understand a command. Did she really want him to leave the apartment all together? Was that what she was asking? Where would he go? How would he take care of himself? He was only eleven and about a month at this point! Less than that, in fact!

“Leave. I don’t want you anywhere near me. I don’t want you even to be locked in your room. I just want you to go away.” She was just met with a frozen, worthless child. She couldn’t deal with this… not tonight. “If you leave me be and come back sometime after school tomorrow, I’ll feed you. Okay?”

Virgil stayed still and stared at her for a few moments longer. Did he hear her correctly?

“Go!” She exclaimed, her hands curling into fists. She was getting angry. “Five, four, three, two-”

Virgil didn’t need to be told anymore. Counting down meant business and he didn’t want to see what she might do if she finished her count down. He dashed toward the door, fiddling frantically to unlock the door and open it. He just needed to get out of there before his mother got angrier and took her increased anger out on him in some shape, way or form.

The door now open, he darted down the hall and down the stairs to the entry. Virgil was soon out under the night sky. The wind forced a shiver down his spine and the snow flurries sprinkled down onto him from the heavens. Virgil pulled his hoodie over his head, wrapped his wings close around him and put his hands in his pockets, all in an attempt to warm himself.

Where would he go now? Usually, when he wasn’t at home, he was walking to school or running around with Ralli… Ralli! He should go to Ralli’s house. Her parents were always nice to him. They would take care of him, surely! The only problem with this plan is the distance problem. It took him fifteen minutes to walk to school, and that was if he was walking fast. Ralli’s house was in the opposite direction from his house and about a seven to seventeen minute walk from Redwood Elementary, depending on fast you could move. At his fastest speed, it would take him about twenty minutes to find his way to his friend’s house.

Well… he better get a move on then.

Virgil started down the familiar route, using muscle memory to lead him. He knew this neighborhood like the back of his hand. He just had to move. He was struggling a lot. His body shook like he was sitting in a vibrating chair and he had a hard time forcing his legs forward. When he did manage to move forward, he walked in weird lines and sumbles over the usual straight lines humans walk. He was feeling uncoordinated and unbalanced which didn’t help his cause. At this point, Virgil just wanted to go home and sleep in his warm room… now out here with the harsh wind racing through the streets and the ever growing specks of snow dancing down to greet the earth. 

Sometime later, Virgil’s gaze fell into the frame of his friend’s house. Pure relief and the desire for warmth pushed him forward, acting like fuel for the last hundred feet he needed to move. He didn’t know how long he was walking, at this point in time, and he didn’t care. He just wanted to get there and be warm again. He wanted to get off his sore feet and he wanted to sleep. Every step he took felt awful and he wanted to pass out right then and there.

Virgil moved up the steps quickly when he arrived, trying to reach the door so he could notify them he was there. On the last step, his foot caught on the stair and he fell forward. He landed with a thump and pain radiated throughout his body. He felt so weak and tired… he didn’t care anymore. He knocked his hand against the door a few times, trying to get their attention. He was never really strong and now, in his weakened state, that fact was clear. Staggered sobs escaped his lips as he curled up into a tight ball. He just wanted to be warm again. He just wanted to feel okay okay… he didn’t like being in so much pain. He hated the cold. Virgil was starting to feel numb and but everything hurt at the same time. He was used to the hurt but, at least then, he has the comfort of his warm bedroom and his wonderful blankers.

How long has he been laying here now? He honestly didn’t know… and he couldn’t bring himself to care. Time seemed to simply be a concept, not really holding any bearings to reality so why would it even matter. He felt his breathing get shallower and there was nothing he could do. Would this be where he died? Is this where he met his end? This would be a pretty selfish way to die…

Just, imagining dying on someone’s doorstep is rather gruesome. His friend and her family would have to see his corpse… they would have to deal with him. His mother would be mad at him for messing up so bad and dying. She would have to be burdened with making up a backstory about why he was out… Though she might be happy. Maybe making up a story was a small price to pay to permanently get rid of her son without her family bothering her about it. She never wanted me, anyway…

Dieing wouldn’t do. He didn’t want to die. Not yet, anyway. Besides, he couldn’t just let himself freeze to death on his friend’s porch. He didn’t want to go out like this. Virgil pushed himself upright, relying on his shaky arms to keep him up. They looked like they were going to collapse under him and have him hit against the ground. Even with that possibility, he continued on. He reached up and hit the doorbell several times before collapsing to the ground. His arms couldn’t hold him up any longer. He was tired. He was exhausted. He couldn’t hold onto consciousness any longer and everything went black…

Virgil doesn’t remember anything that happened after that as well as nothing for the next few days. According to the doctors, he was brought to the hospital for medical care after he was found by his friend’s parents. He was diagnosed with superficial frostbite and hypothermia pretty quickly and started to retrieve treatment. They tried to notify his mother, seeing she was the emergency contact, but she didn’t pick up the phone until she’s received several calls from the hospital. She used the exhausted single mother excuse and that got her off the hook… it usually did. 

The excuse Aeneid supplied was majority false, as to be expected. She would never admit to what she did if she had anything to say about it. The story painted the picture that Virgil snuck out in the middle of the night, wanting to see his friend. This was untrue but Virgil allowed the blame to be put on him. It wasn’t his fault he was out in the could. It wasn’t his fault he now was suffering. But alas, he took the blame. What else could he do? If he denied the claim, his mother would not be happy… he didn’t want to make her any angrier at him. When his mother was happy, he didn’t suffer so it was in his best interest to play along.

A few days later, Virgil was released from the hospital. Ralli’s parents had gone out and gotten aloe vera gel for him to put on the frostbitten areas and some ibuprofen to help with the pain. 

The next few days were rather nice to him, despite needing pain medication to feel alright. His mother fed him two decently big meals every day, which was way more food then he was used to from her. Most of the time he couldn’t finish it. He saved the non-perishable stuff in his closet for a later time, knowing he won’t be as fortunate later. He suspected that she felt a bit guilty about what happened and Virgil couldn’t help but think “Good- she deserves it” at that. 

Was that wrong of him to think?


End file.
